War Is Over
by iTurtle
Summary: No one should be lonely at Christmas. Dennis wants a friend and George... George isn't sure anymore. NOT A SONGFIC! NOT SLASH!


**Ahh. Well, this was going to be part of **_A Patchwork Quilt_** but it wound up to be a _teensy_ bit over 200 words. So it has it's own story. Enjoy the depressing festivities.**

**_And a big thankyou to the one person who StoryAlerted _**_A Patchwork Quilt **and AuthorAlerted me. You know who you are.**_

Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. Except my iPod that I got for Christmas. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Song owned by John Lennon.

_And so this is Christmas. And what have we done? _

_Another year over. A new one just begun. _

_And so Merry Christmas. And a Happy New Year,_

_ Let's hope its a good one. Without any tears. _

**_War is over. If you want it. War is over now._**

It was just seven months after the war. The very first Christmas memorial was going to take place today. The Burrow was the quietest it had been since May. Judging from lack of decorations, Dennis Creevey assumed that the Weasleys weren't planning on any festive celebrations this year. Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the rickety house, burying his chin deeper into his scarf as he pressed forward. Seven floors high and just 7 foot wide, the house looked as though it was going to collapse at any moment. Dennis had a slow pace, but in this bitter cold, he picked up speed as he forced his way throguh the snow. After what seemed like hours, the boy, small for his age, halted at the front door. The lights showing from inside the house assured Dennis that the large family was still in, but the eery silence combined with the darkness made him more nervous about knocking the door. Dennis had never been a confident child and since Colin's death, he had become an introvert, shutting himself in his room and not speaking to anyone. This was the first time he'd been out in months.

Since the memorial was held in the wizarding world, Dennis was forced to face it on his own. However, he had a couple of things he wanted to get out of the way. Arming himself with Colin's old camera, he knocked the old wooden door and waited. Within seconds, a red-haired young man answered, a sulky look on his face. "What?" he grunted, showing no signs of Dennis being at all welcome. As the man turned his head, Dennis saw that he only had one ear and gasped at the gaping hole in the side of the man's head.

"Umm... er, is Harry Potter still here, sir?" Dennis stuttered. This man (who he assumed was George; there had been a lot of reports about the Weasleys after the war - Ron being a hero and all - including family photos, taken after George's accident) did not look like someone to mess around with.

"Yeah. Do you want to come in? He'll be in Ron's room." George turned around and walked upstairs, though he didn't make it clear whether Dennis was to follow him or not. Using his common sense, he tentatively walked up the stairs behind George. When the one-eared man came to a halt, he turned to face Dennis, stared him down for a moment and then opened the door. Inside, Harry, a bushy-haired girl and who Dennis guessed was Ron were all sat on the main bed, apparently each in deep thought. George cleared his throat and Ron jerked his head up, surprised at the pair's presence.

"Uhh, who's this?" Ron asked, a comical confused look on his face. Harry, suddenly awakened from his train of thought, glanced at the doorframe and did a double take when he noticed Dennis standing there like a rabbit in headlights.

Harry recognised him instantly and stood, rubbing his neck rather sheepishly. "It's Colin Creevey's brother, Ron. You know, the one that fell in the lake in our fourth year?" he smiled slightly at the memory. Ron gave a small sign of recognition and gestured that Dennis could sit down. Dennis turned to look at George for a sort of approval to enter - he didn't want to leave the man alone - but he was gone. Sighing slightly. Dennis entered the cramped room, shutting the door behind him and trying to make himself as small as possible on the tainy chair in the corner. "Dennis," Harry began, a false cheeriness to his voice. "What brings you here?"

"I've got Colin's camera. It's got footage of the war on it and I wanted to know if you wanted to use it at the memorial service because I'm sure lots of people would like to-"

"Calm down. Say it slower. I don't understand midget" was Ron's instant reaction, thus earning himself a slight push from Hermione.

"I got it, Ron. Dennis, are you sure you'd be willing to let people see that stuff? It might be personal or-"

"Stop! Colin wanted his photography to be seen by the world and I'm sure he'd be more than happy to see it used in this way." Dennis suddenly realised that he sounded more mature than just fourteen years old. He became conscious of this and simply took it in his stride. "You'll have look at the footage first, I guess, because there might be... other stuff there too, but anything of the war is fine for you to use. You can give me the camera back at the end of the service."

The three people on the bed stared for a moment. Then the girl spoke. "I think it'd be a nice idea, Harry. And if Dennis is happy with it..."

"I guess it might be okay to use some of the images. Not too graphic, though. Don't want to upset people." Ha! Dennis knew that if Ron had agreed, he was sure to get the photos used.

Uncertainly, Harry began to nod his head. "Fine. But I'll have to look through them first. Make sure that everything on there is suitable. There's kids coming to the service and I don't want to mess this up first time round. Thanks, Dennis."

Dennis was victorious. Colin would finally be recognised as more than the annoying little kid with the camera. He walked out of the room, a huge grin on his face. Just as he headed down the first flight of stairs, someone tapped his shoulder.

"Looking forward to seeing those photos, kid." George Weasley had a small smile of his face. "I'll see you at the service, then?" Dennis nodded. "Good. Come and see me at the end, will you?" Dennis nodded for a second time.

As he walked out of the house, he knew that he had made a new friend. And, for the first time in a while, he was truly happy. Because that's the power of friendship does to you.

**Ahem. Please review me because I'm not sure whether to do a chapter on the funeral or not. Let me know. [; **

**Sorry if it's awful.**


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